#facing setbacks galore right now but i have to keep going

[finelinevogue]

could you write something about the readers parents not liking her and harry comforts her please

ok this is going to be quite sad and angsty so hold on tight!

Y/N was crying in her room. Again.

This was turning out to be a daily occurrence now. Wake up. Get shouted at. Go to school. Learn how to dissect a frog and master how to write the perfect essay. Come home. Get shouted at. Sleep. The weekends, she didn’t get all the good in-between stuff, it was just waking up to be shouted at.

For what? Well not even Y/N could answer that.

Her parents had despised her since the day she was born, or at least Y/N presumed. She was never allowed to go out without permission from her parents. She was not allowed to eat certain foods, because “she didn’t need to be any fatter”. She wasn’t supposed to wear anything inappropriate. She wasn’t allowed relationships. Although that last one, she cheated on.

Harry had been Y/Ns best friend all through high-school, until they reached college and Harry couldn’t wait any longer to make her officially his. He wanted her so badly. She was his best friend but he craved for more. It took Y/N a lot of persuading, but it was the best thing she’d ever done for herself. Harry was kind to her. He treated her with respect and love - something she’d never had from her parents.

Having a relationship whilst being instructed you weren’t allowed one, made things very difficult. Harry could only see Y/N when she allowed him to. After finishing chores she would tell her parents she was going to grab food or cleaning supplies from the grocery store, only to go and spend a few hours with Harry in his treehouse. She would always come back with a bag full of shopping and made sure she covered the hickeys on her neck well. It would be hard to explain their origin of those marks to her parents.

“Y/N!”

Her mum had never provided her with a nickname, only ever calling her by her proper name. Harry gave her nicknames and pet names galore; baby, honey, sweetheart, lovie, darling and petal to name but a few.

You had learnt that shouting back was “never okay” so you left your bedroom and walked down the stairs to find your mum, who’d just shouted for you.

“Yes mum?” You timidly asked, standing at the door with your fingers fiddling with each other.

Your mum turned and scoffed at the sight of you. “Oh Jesus Y/N! You look horrible. That dress is disgusting.” It just so happened to be your favourite dress - a simple, long - as necessary - white dress with pretty flowers embroidered in baby pink and blue across the skirt. It made you feel like a weightless princess. “Don’t you agree?” Your mum asked your dad.

“Oh yes. Too much fat showing.” Your dad lovingly commented back.

You looked down at yourself, thinking that maybe it was showing a bit too much skin and therefore showing off your fat. Harry always told you that you were completely beautiful - an angel - but it was hard to believe on days like this. You crossed your arms over your chest in discomfort. Speaking back would only make things worse, so you took the verbal abuse as it came.

“Now,” your mum sat up a bit more, “i’m finding it really hard to look at you right now, Y/N, because i’m hurt by you.” Tears, fake of course, were forming in her eyes.

“W-why?”

“Mrs Tucker said she saw you and a young boy kissing outside the grocery store the other night - the same night you said you were going to pick up cleaning supplies.” Your heart dropped to your feet, because it was true. You had been with Harry. You’d never thought about anyone catching you, mainly because you thought no one cared about you enough. Mrs Tucker does like a good gossip though, dammit.

“A boy Y/N!” Your dad shouted in reiteration, making you flinch to the noise.

“Now I told Mrs Tucker that was being silly. That lady will do anything for a natter.” You stilled, thinking you were off the hook, but you should ‘t have been so quick to let your guard down. “Until your dad and I followed you to the grocery store the next night, although we never reached the store did we Y/N? No we were outside a house instead.”

Oh no. You are so dead.

“A boys house, Y/N? You weren’t raised to be a whore.” Your dad spat at you, turning away from you as if the sight of you was disgusting.

“God knows who he is or what you’re doing with him, but it stops. Right now, today.” Your mum gritted through her teeth, obviously trying to keep her calm.

“But—”

“No!” You mum screamed. “I will not be seen as the mother of a daughter who sleeps with random boys, instead of studying and working hard for her family!”

This was so 1800s. This was your life.

You had actual tears forming in your eyes now, unlike those your mum bared. It was so silly that this was making you cry but you were so upset that they thought they could control your life this way. It was devastating.

“I-I.. I love him though.” You choked out between tiny sobs, “I love him.” You whispered - that having been the first time you’d told someone else other than Harry. It actually felt good. Relieving. To declare your love for Harry made the world feel possible.

“Love? You no nothing about love.” You dad rolled his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh at his words.

“The only reason I don’t know about love is because I never got it from either of you.” You started to fight back. This was a battle you were determined to win. No more hiding behind a timid figure. You were willing to stand up for yourself - no one else was going to.

“Because there’s nothing to love about you!”

You didn’t recall who this came from, all you remember is your heart dropping below the floor and fleeing from the room. Fleeing from the house. Fleeing from a family who didn’t see you as anything but a human being. You weren’t a daughter to them. You were nothing. Your heart called elsewhere. It yearned for the person closest to you.

It wasn’t until you were met with Harry’s front door that you realised where you were and what had happened.

“Oh Y/N! Hi lov—” Anne greeted you, until she saw that you were crying heavily and your chest was rising rapidly. “Harry!” She shouted into the house, leaving you a brief moment to collapse onto the floor in front of you. You didn’t care for the pain that ran through your knees from the impact - only the pain in your heart from the break it had just suffered.

“Woah angel, hey, hey.” Harry was by your side within seconds, completely incasing his body around you. Your head laid buried against his warm chest and his arms hugged you close to him like never before. His smell was one of home. He encompassed you and made you feel safe and loved. You weren’t alone.

“I-i’m unloveable.”

“But I love you.” Harry whispered against your hair, warm air softly kissing your skin.

“Yes, but—”

“No, “but”. I love you, Y/N L/N, I really fucking do. You’re my other half, baby.” He kissed your forehead a few times, knowing that’s your second favourite place to be kissed. “Your parents don’t deserve you, they really don’t. They’re cruel and cold-hearted, but that doesn’t mean I am. I think you’re beautiful, clever and kind. I think you’re everything i could ever want. And I know that you can’t be unloveable, because i’m, so deeply, in love with you.”

Harry continued to rock you, as your cried into his chest. You’d never believed in yourself before meeting him and you never thought that he could be so genuine towards you. He couldn’t care less what your parents think, as long as he helped remind you that you’re none of what they think of you. You’re so much better than mindless words. You make you you, not your parents. Harry’s helped you discover who you are and who you want to be. Even though your miles from becoming who you want to be, and you have your setbacks, you’re proud of how far you’ve come.

You cried against his chest, until the pain softened and your could regain your breath again. You unburied yourself from his hold and looked up to him with love in your eyes.

“There’s my beautiful girl, looking like a princess in you pretty dress.” He smiled down at you, even though you knew you had puffy eyes, red cheeks and a snotty nose. He loved you and all your perfect imperfections.

“Thank you, H.” You said with a wobble to your lips, really meaning your words.

“I know, baby.”

“I really do love you too.” You made sure he knew. His heart fluttered a little faster over your words. He leaned down to kiss you gently, minding all the salty water and grimy snot that laid on your face. His kiss sent butterflies swarming through your stomach and a new type of red appeared on your cheeks.

“Waffles anyone?” Anne asked as she stood at the door, the smells of sweet honey and cream only hitting you now. It was that moment that you realised your heart had never belonged with your parents, your heart belonged here, with Harry. Forever and always.